Talk:Nova/@comment-24796133-20150504165657/@comment-25065826-20150504181449
I wake up with a woman and man crouched over me. My eyes flicker open, and I instantly try sitting up, at which the woman tells me forcefully to lie still. "What happened here?" The woman says. She's fussing over my collarbone with some wipes and is just about to pull out a needle- "I had to wake up now... A man called... Cross, I think, came in, and didn't like my answers to his questions." I say quietly to myself. "Ouch." The guy says. He's doing less work, more just giving me the once-over, checking my bandages and burns. "Do you not like needles?" The woman asks. I shake my head. "Sorry." She says. And starts stitching me back together. Touching me, which makes me flinch and squirm, and the prick of the needle against my skin and muscle aggravates my nerves. The woman doesn't say anything, but her face becomes a mask of determination and frustration. "So why are you down here?" she asks. I don't want to answer, I'll just get hated and judged by more people, and these are important, they would appear to be my doctors. "Yeah, why aren't you training? I mean, you look as though you could be of use on this mission that's happening." The man says, and earns a glare from the woman. "You never heard anything", she says to me. "But why are you down here?" "Um..." On my side, I guess these two can't have seen my scar. Can I afford more enemies? One way to find out. I turn my head, and the woman tells me to stop, and my stitches tear a bit, but slowly, my scar comes into sight. I can tell from the woman's face. She's probably horrified - A Pluto mutant with a massive wound in the side of her neck, skewering the scar. I doubt she has much experience with black, swirly scars. The man certainly doesn't. He walks from the room with a hand over his mouth, and doesn't come back in. "Shit. You're one of them? You... Wait... Was it you-" "Shut up!" I shout. "Stop asking me questions, because you obviously don't want my answers! Do you think I wanted to be with Pluto?" She stops talking. Just addresses my wounds, with a stern, puckered face, as if she's just eaten a lemon. And the silence carries on. She re-stitches my collarbone, and my neck proves an issue, so I get a 'local anaesthetic' to shut me up. Finally done, she leaves me with my wounds pulled tightly shut. * Mutant-face appeared again. He's gone now, but he was telling me that mental pain is worse than physical. I believe him enough, but I'm wondering why he would know. He said his conscience was messed up or something, like it was a separate being, or at least a part of it was. And, as he said something about mutations I agreed with, something along the lines of them being worse than everyone thought, I'm starting to believe his mutation did this to him. Made him a monster. He left more urgently that last time, which makes me think he was off on this mission or something. Trust me to be imprisoned as the interesting stuff starts. And then, Cross walks in. In a different gear than last time, and it would appear weapon-less. But you can't be sure. "All better?" He asks, closing the door behind him and walking over to me, sitting across from me. I would spit at him, but I don't have enough water in me. "I don't have any weapons this time, you're fine." He's trying to make conversation. And telling me he won't attack me this time isn't getting me talking any time soon. "Why are you keeping me down here?" I ask quietly. He keeps his eyes on me, and then looks away and starts talking. "We can keep an eye on you. You're a problem. And there are some people upstairs who would happily wrap their hands around your neck and keep squeezing until your pulse starts dying. Don't count me out of them, I would happily have you dead and rotting somewhere else. But I'm trying to learn about the enemy, and you being dead is no use to me. So for now, you're alive and fed and drinking and in a base secure from all of those people who want your body on their bonfire. You shouldn't be asking me for more." At least he told me the truth. "Can't you keep a better eye on me upstairs? My muscle is wasting away down here, I can't keep fit or train to help you, and I'm becoming a waste of space and resources if you're just putting your resources down the plughole." "You know, the more you want to get out of here, the longer I will keep you down here. You have killed so many people, I don't want my soldiers and Nova Contagion victims dead because I let a terrorist out of a cell." And with that, he leaves. My food arrives at my door an hour or so after he's left. It's the same as yesterday's by the look of it, but with my wounds I can't get to it. I'm so hungry. So hungry. I instinctively reach over, trying to grab the plate and persuade myself I'm so close, one more centimetre. And then, it's on the floor beside me. The screeching stops echoing, and the plate stops next to me. I reach for the fork in amazement. And it flies upwards, stopping and floating at eye level. I have my powers back.